


Till Things Are Brighter

by Minutia_R



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Clothing, F/M, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 13:14:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7894006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minutia_R/pseuds/Minutia_R
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first thing Tej thought, with a guilty twist of her stomach, was how <i>good<i> Ivan Xav looked.</i></i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Till Things Are Brighter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DesertVixen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertVixen/gifts).



The first thing Tej thought, with a guilty twist of her stomach, was how _good _Ivan Xav looked.__

__She'd never understood why he hated wearing black, when it set off his coloring so well--the olive tones of his skin practically glowed, and the light glinting off his dark hair was echoed by the subtle glimmer of the black-on-black embroidery of the uniform. Knowing Barrayar, Tej suspected that the embroidery had been done by hand, and she found herself wondering whose fingers had set those tiny, precise stitches in the fabric. Not Ivan Xav’s, surely. Alys’? That terrifying tailor that Alys had introduced her to?_ _

__Generally Ivan Xav disdained tailors, claiming that there was nothing they did that a good sartorial computer couldn’t do better. Tej was willing to bet that _this_ uniform hadn’t been made by a sartorial computer, but it was hard to see how one of them could have done better. The high collar emphasized his strong jawline, and the lines of the jacket hugged his broad chest and slim hips in a way that frankly ought to have been illegal._ _

__He caught her looking and smiled. It was one of his automatic smiles for public consumption, and it made her heart hurt._ _

__“You look good,” he said._ _

__In between the monumental undertaking that was a Barrayaran funeral for a man of Count Vorkosigan’s standing--not that there was another Barrayaran of Aral Vorkosigan’s standing--and her own private grief, Alys had managed to find Tej something ‘suitable’ to wear. In her own opinion, black didn’t suit her nearly as well as it suited Ivan Xav. The long sleeves were stiff and constricting, and the skirts too heavy--not that Tej had never worn Barrayaran clothing before, but--_ _

__“So what?” she said. “What’s the point?”_ _

__He came and sat on the bed next to her. “M’mother would say--respect for the dead.” He gave an apologetic little shrug. At least the awful smile was gone, but he was still doing charming at her, as if she were a stranger. “We’re pretty big on respect for the dead on Barrayar, you may have noticed.”_ _

__“And what would you say?”_ _

__Ivan Xav shook his head and didn’t answer._ _

__Tej took his hand, turned it over, traced the lines on his palm and wrist, then continued upward, running her fingers over the fabric of his sleeve. It even felt wonderful, soft and crisp at the same time. And after the week of the state funeral it would be hung up in some closet and no one would so much as look at it for--years, Tej hoped._ _

__“Is black only for funerals on Barrayar, then?”_ _

__“Funerals and fatigues.” Ivan Xav saw her puzzled expression at the unfamiliar word, and explained, “Uniforms for combat troops. Black doesn’t show stains well, y’see. And that way you’re ready to mourn at a moment’s notice.”_ _

__“Oh no.” Horrified, Tej felt a giggle bubbling up in her chest. “That’s awful.”_ _

__“Yeah,” said Ivan Xav. His voice broke on the word, and Tej put her arms around him. He buried his face in her shoulder, laughing and sobbing at once. “Sorry--”_ _

__“Shh. It’s--I don’t mind.”_ _

__She wished there was something better she could say to him. He’d been there for her in the awful days when she’d thought her own family was dead, had pulled her back from the brink of despair--she wished she felt something other than this odd dislocation amid the outpouring of grief from her new family._ _

__They clung to each other for a few more moments, until Ivan Xav pulled himself together. He rubbed one hand across his face, then reached for hers again, sliding his thumb across her knuckles. “Uncle Aral--” His voice was still a little hoarse. “He was the only one who ever talked to me about my father. M’mother never would, not like--he was always that plaque in the street. Respect for the dead. But when Uncle Aral talked about him, he was alive.”_ _

__“That must have meant a lot to you,” said Tej, squeezing his hands, hoping it was right._ _

__Ivan Xav laughed again, not hysterical crying-laughter, but short and bitter. “Miles is a lot like him, y’know. In some ways. And he’s going to light the offering today, and make a speech--I’m terrified of what he’ll say.”_ _

__That, Tej knew the right response to. “Not your problem,” she said firmly._ _

__“But--” said Ivan Xav._ _

__“It’s not.”_ _

__He sighed, ran a hand through his hair. “The groundcar is waiting. We’ll be late. How do I look?”_ _

___Beautiful_ , she wanted to say. But--respect for the dead. “You’d better wash your face.”_ _

__“Right,” said Ivan Xav. By the time he came out of the bathroom, he was presentable again. His eyes were a bit red-rimmed, but not too bad, and his face was a picture of somber and respectful grief. Tej felt a rush of tenderness for him, that he’d let her see beneath that, just for a minute._ _

__She stood up, straightened out her own dress and cautiously patted down her hair. He gave her a shallow nod._ _

__“I’ll be there,” she told him. “Whatever happens. I’ll be with you the whole time. I’m not going anywhere.”_ _

__“I know,” he said._ _

__Here and now, there was nothing else to say._ _


End file.
